Hellhole
by SleepySama
Summary: A companion story to my earlier Vietnam story "Trenches". This time, it is from Corporal Greene's point of view a few years earlier, in Tam Ky, where a patrol mission goes terribly wrong.


September 13th, 1967

The rain started to come in right after we left the base for the patrol mission.

Sweat poured down from my forehead, and spread throughout my body.

I was more than nervous about this mission, despite my experience as a soldier and my three earned purple hearts.

I was fucking scared.

The mission was simple: Scout the area around Tam Ky for Congs and NVA forces and get the fuck out of there.

Our squad was compromised of six people, including me, and four of which I had no idea of who they were.

Ryan, my closest friend in this hellhole, Vietnam, was walking beside me in the small rainstorm, cradling his M-60 in his hands as if it were a baby.

I carried my M-16 in a similar way, with the strap wrapped securely around my body and holding the barrel so tightly it made my hands hurt.

I was also equipped with an M-79, or a "Bloop-Tube" as Ryan called it.

Ryan didn't look as scared as I felt, but I knew he was scared just because I knew him all too well.

Our squad walked in unison toward a large marsh, with trees and thick underbrush covering most of it.

The air was hot and muggy, and the rain didn't make it feel much prettier.

"Hey! I don't think entering that marsh is a good idea, Sarge!" I heard one of my new squad mates say.

His tag read, 'JONES'.

He had a dark complexion, dark and baggy eyes, and was young.

Younger than most of us, anyway.

"Shut your mouth Private! The mission says to patrol through this route. So whatever command tells me to do, you do it too. Got that soldier!" he yelled.

"Yes sir.." Jones replied nervously.

The rain came in harder, and we heard brief crackles of thunder.

The marsh came up to our hips, and I tried my best to keep my M-16 out of the water.

I kept my finger on the trigger, and stayed on the lookout for Congs, even though I knew I couldn't see one in the thick underbrush.

"Hey, Greene. How do ya think of this new squad?" Ryan whispered, coming closer to me.

"Eh.. They're fuckin' amateurs." I replied, trying to act as casual as possible.

"Yeah. I bet that Sarge ain't no shit about fire missions like these, and I bet that half of these fuckin' amateurs haven't even been to real combat yet." Ryan said.

"Yeah, I suppose so…" I replied, but I wasn't really paying attention to the subject.

I was paying most of my attention to staying alive.

The rain got even harder as the hours passed.

We hadn't seen a Cong in more than an hour.

I checked my watch and saw that it was 1700 Hours.

Suddenly. I saw something in the distance. A rice paddy, abandoned, but full of punji sticks.

Punji sticks were one of those things that you ought to stay away from in 'Nam.

"Hey! Sarge! I think there's a Cong rice paddy up ahead!" I whispered.

"Why you whisperin' Corporal? We're only on patrol, not a fucking infiltration mission dammit." he snapped.

That was the last thing he said.

In less than a second, Congs just came out of nowhere and killed a few of our guys, including King and Jones. Only three of us were left, and we quickly dove for the nearest cover, which were the trees.

Ryan let his M-60 start barking, and it started to chew up the Congs in less than a minute.

"Damn! Who's the point man?" I yelled.

"Over here!" said a younger, white kid.

He looked about 19, and his tags read, "O'Brian."

O'Brian was carrying a CAR-15, a compact version of the M-16.

"Okay, O'Brian, get on point. Ryan! Give him cover! We'll head for the rice paddies and try to find radio out of here!" I yelled, trying to reassure the remaining squad that we would be okay.

The chances however, seemed very slim.

The Congs Ryan killed were lying in the marsh water, which was now a crimson, bloody red.

"Let's go! We need to find a radio!" I yelled.

We headed toward the rice paddies, where over ten more Congs were waiting or us.

"Get to cover dammit!" I heard Ryan yell.

I fired my M-16 blindly, not knowing where to shoot, or who to shoot at!

"Shit! We're outnumbered Greene!" Ryan yelled over the gunfire.

I fired more rounds, and got one Cong.

"Charlie's dead! We need to fall back!" I said.

"We'll just end up back in the marsh! We need to hold position till the Congs fall back!" O'Brian yelled back.

It seemed as if more Congs were coming and putting more pressure on us.

I was taking cover behind a small wooden fence covered by underbrush, and was scared out of my mind.

Scared that if I just peek my head out for just half a second, I was going to get nailed by a Cong.

I had no family at home, no one to care for me if I was killed in 'Nam.

Ryan had one, and everyone I met here in 'Nam had one.

I was the only one I knew here who didn't.

A bullet whined past me and woke me up from my trance.

"Greene! Get your head outta your ass and start firing on those damn Congs!" Ryan yelled, firing the M-60.

I got out the Bloop Tube and loaded it with one grenade.

Peeking out from my cover, I shot it, and got three Congs.

Their limbs flew away from their bodies in a mass of blood and guts.

I wasn't new to the symphony of gore.

Loading another grenade, I saw that O'Brian was hit.

He was crying, and there was blood all over his fatigues and his face.

I fired another grenade and got a few more guys, but more Congs seemed to be coming.

A grenade went off a few feet away from me, causing dirt and water to splash all over my face.

"Fuck! Ryan, we're pinned! And O'Brian's hit!"

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! We need a radio!"

I looked around, and saw that the nearest hut was more than twenty meters away.

It was worth the risk.

"Ryan, hold this position, I'm gonna make a run for that hut." I said reassuringly, pointing to my objective.

"Do it quick! I don't want to be sitting here baby-sitting O'Brian's ass with my 'sixty! I'm almost out of rounds anyways!" Ryan said.

I strapped my M-16 tight around my shoulders and waist, and flicked the selector switch to "Auto".

With all my strength, I ran toward the hut, firing rounds onto the Congs and killing at least five of them in a mass of blood.

The water in the paddies was at least knee high, making it extremely difficult to run.

"Fuck!" I yelled as bullets whizzed past my head in a confusing frenzy of chaos.

I neared the hut, and dove right into it.

Swiftly, I took out the M-16's magazine and slammed another one in and pulled back the cocking handle.

I started to fire small bursts into the crowd of Congs, and killed one.

I looked around, frantically looking for a radio.

I must have had luck that day, as I saw one near the corner of the hut.

My hands sweating madly, I grabbed it and made a radio call.

The connection was extremely choppy, but it was enough so I could call central command.

"Command, this is Whisky 2-6! We need immediate evac! We have three men dead and one wounded! We're sitting ducks out here, over!" I yelled into the radio, almost angrily.

I waited anxiously for a reply.

I grabbed my M-79 and fired another grenade, witnessing a large splash of shrapnel shortly after.

"Crap! Command, fucking respond, over!" I yelled over the gunfire.

No response.

All hope was lost, no doubt about it.

I prayed and prayed and prayed that we would make it out of this hellhole in one piece.

I was fucking scared.

Suddenly, a hoarse cracking through the radio.

Surprised, I started to tune the radio.

"Whisky, this is Command. Helicopter evac on our way over.."

"Hell yes!" I said to myself.

I readied my M-16, and shot several bursts into the Congs, and gave Ryan a thumbs up.

After several minutes, a chopper, a UH-1 Huey, came in and brought hell to the Congs.

It fired large M-60 rounds and several rockets, destroying most of the huts and causing a small fire in the rice fields.

"Fuckin' A! Come on, Greene! Let's get the fuck outta here!"

I headed toward the chopper, carrying O'Brian, who was crying tears of joy.

A plane dropped a bomb in the distance, and napalm spread through the treeline.

All I could hear was Ryan and O'Brian cheering, saying "Hell yeah!" and that kind of shit.

I survived one day in this hellhole called Vietnam.

I just hoped I could survive the rest.


End file.
